A/N Happy THORINSday! Or Thursday if you want to get technical.

So when you're near me

Darling can't you hear me

S.O.S.

-ABBA

After several hours of sitting alone and feeling sorry for herself, Sona noticed the chill in the air and shivered. Gandalf still had not come back, and she found it odd that none of the dwarves had come to find her and escort her back for dinner. Dwalin at the very least should have been looming over her glowering. In fact, at some point in her brooding the noise from the camp had ceased… and she'd only now realized it.

"Hello?" She walked into camp and found the fire had died and the remnants of the soup had burned to the bottom of the pot. Not a soul was around, and Sona's breath caught in her throat when she realized she couldn't even hear the usual night sounds of crickets and owls… She was utterly alone.

"Ahhh!" She nearly jumped out of her skin when Sasha leapt from between the bushes and began barking at her and running back to the trees. The lab then paused, quivering with anxiety, and Sona noticed she was trailing the end of what appeared to be a chewed off rope looped through her collar.

"What is it, girl?" Then Sona checked herself realizing the dog was obviously not going to answer her. Scooping up her pack, because she had no idea what she was about to encounter or what she would need or what she could possibly do that thirteen well-armed and competent dwarves couldn't handle, she ran after Sasha into the dark forest.

"Don't bother cooking 'em! Let's just sit on 'em and squash 'em into jelly!" The most vile smelling creature Sona had ever encountered picked at his teeth with what appeared to be the rib bone of a… Sona's gaze drifted across the filthy camp before her and spotted the remains of one of the dwarves' ponies.

Trolls. Of course it's trolls.

Sona wasn't quite sure what she had been expecting. She'd known they'd run into the trolls eventually and was mentally kicking herself for not saying anything sooner. Though, given that Gandalf had flat refused to listen to her any time she tried to talk to him and Thorin pretty much avoided any interaction with her…

Still, I guess I could have told Dwalin, or one of the others.

"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage." Another troll, this one with a large greasy apron indicated a heap wriggling sacks. She mentally labeled him Cook.

"Oh, that does sound quite nice," the first troll, whom she labeled Jelly, replied.

No, not sacks… Dwarves!

She edged closer, while still remaining safe in the shadows and counted. Eleven, twelve… Out popped Bofur's head from under Bombur, grumbling all the while, and Sona sighed with relief. Thirteen. They're all here. I'm not too late.

"Never mind the seasoning, we ain't got all night!" A third troll, she decided to call him Hulk, walked over to the pile of dwarves, a massive hand nearly the size of their bodies, extending toward them. "Dawn ain't far away, let's get a move on! I don't fancy been turned to stone." Just as the troll was about to grab Bombur, the apron-wearing troll rapped his hand with a ladle, and a squabble broke out between the two.

Realizing this was likely her best shot at freeing the dwarves, Sona dropped her pack silently to the ground and pulled out a knife from the side pouch. It was a tiny Kershaw Chive, but the rainbow wash to the metal meant it was heat treated titanium and she knew it would do well against whatever rope the trolls had tied around the dwarves. It just might take longer than a larger knife. Still, it was better than nothing.

She motioned for Sasha to stay and held a finger to her lips. The dog obediently lay down next to her pack without a sound. Then, making her way around the edge of the troll camp, Sona crept up behind the dwarf closest to the tree line.

Thorin. Of course it was Thorin.

She silently pulled open her three-inch blade and, thankful for the brawling argument the trolls were still having, placed a soft hand on Thorin's shoulder.

Electric blue eyes met hers as Thorin jerked away, but then he froze when he realized who it was. Sona stared at his face, surprised by the range of emotions flitting across it. He was usually so unreadable, and yet now she could see anger, aggression, and even a hint of fear in the play of his eyes and turn of his mouth. She forced herself to tear her gaze away, and studied the rope tying the top of his sack closed.

The rope was very thick, and would take time to cut, but she could tell just by looking at the knot she wouldn't have the strength to undo it. Sona leaned forward to get the leverage she needed, forcing herself to ignore the close proximity this put them in. Her fingers brushed lightly across the warm skin of his neck as she wrapped her fingers around the wide girth of the rope. She pressed her blade to the coarse fibre and could feel Thorin's breath quicken as it played across the exposed skin of her own neck. Swallowing, she began to saw. It was slow work, going back and forth, and her knife was not as sharp as she would have liked, but she was patient, and Thorin held very still.

A few of the closer dwarves caught onto the fact that she was there, but the trolls remained blissfully unaware in their arguing. At least that was until…

"Sona—" Kíli called with a relieved smile. Fíli kicked him, but the damage was done.

Cook paused in the act of beating Hulk with his ladle. "Oi! Who's that there?"

"Can we eat him?" Jelly got to his feet.

"Run." It was the first word Thorin had spoken directly to Sona since she'd asked about the pale orc's fate that first night. He stared at her with fierce intensity, and… was that gratitude? She couldn't be sure. She didn't know him well enough yet.

But she knew one thing for certain: she would not leave the dwarves here to be eaten by the trolls.

She couldn't fight them, but she could play for time.

As if sensing what she was about to do, his eyes widened, whether in shock over her disregarding his command to run, or that she was about to do something incredibly stupid. Meeting his eyes fully, only inches from her own, she gave him a rueful smile before carefully dropping her knife into Thorin's sack.

Sona straightened and held her hands over her head in surrender.

"Her." She stepped around the dwarves, all urging her to run, and out into the dim firelight.

"What?" Cook lowered his ladle.

"Her. I'm a woman. Not a he." Her hands were surprisingly steady, and her voice was strong. Sona had no idea why she hadn't fainted dead away when faced by these three monstrous creatures. Especially given that since so much had changed already, she had no guarantee that Gandalf would return in time to save them.

"What does it matter?" Hulk reached toward her. "Put 'er in a bag and let's eat 'er too."

Play for time. She stepped out of his reach, but didn't run. Play for time! "Okay… while I'd prefer not to be eaten—"

"We don't really care what you'd prefer missy—"

Sona deftly dodged his grasp, and made her way to her pack, motioning Sasha back with a flick of her head. I must be nuts. "—would you grant me one last request before you kill me?"

This caused all three trolls to pause, and even the dwarves stopped yelling at her to run. All parties looked at her in confusion and askance.

"It's the gentlemanly thing to do, after all." She slowly lowered her arms to her side, but held her ground.

The trolls huddled together in conversation, occasionally shooting her curious glances. She dug into her pack while their backs were turned, and after a few brief moments they faced her in unison.

"Alright, we'll give you your last request, so long as it's not to let you or them go."

Damn. Not that Sona thought for a moment that would ever work.

"Of course not." She smiled up at them, exuding a confidence she didn't even remotely feel. They're just another audience. Nothing more. Definitely not three trolls who want to squash me into jelly. "I would never insult your intelligence by asking for that."

The trolls preened at that, and the dwarves grumbled loudly. Sona shot them a pleading look. Shut up!

"No, what I was going to ask is if"—she pulled her guitar from behind her back—"you would grant me the honor of playing a song for you?"

A/N

Hmmmmm, wonder if Sona's skills are truly all that...